


yn hen ac yn llwyd ac yn llawn cysgu

by tigerfish



Category: Y Gwyll | Hinterland
Genre: Gen, Hospitals, Insomnia, Light Angst, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 17:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11810838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerfish/pseuds/tigerfish
Summary: what really happened between the series two finale and series threealternatively: tom gets hit in the head and sleeps a lot





	yn hen ac yn llwyd ac yn llawn cysgu

**Author's Note:**

> so turns out i'm just writing for increasingly obscure shows but damnit i will get hinterland to double digits if it kills me 
> 
> i'm aware this fic has already been written but it also hasn't been updated in 3 years so My City Now

DCI Tom Matthais's head was fucking killing him. He'd woken up, face down in the grass, fingers turning blue and his head feeling like his skull had been caved in and, when he thought things couldn't get any worse, he pushed himself up to sitting and was helpfully reminded that he quite literally had nothing but the charred clothes on his back. 

He'd quickly realised that driving was not going to happen after he tried pushing himself to standing and promptly found himself right back where he started with his face in the dirt. Pushing down the urge to pass back out, he groped around for his phone and called Mared before rolling onto his back and closing his eyes.

It was where she found him half an hour later as the sound of her car roused him from his doze. He heard her walk, jog as she no doubt caught sight of the carnage that was his home. 

"Tom! Tom!" 

He opened his eyes and recoiled, the sun had gotten higher since he called her. Squinting, he watched her run over and crouch down beside him. 

"Tom! Are you alright? What the hell happened?" He opened his mouth to answer, "Is that blood?" 

"I..." He cleared his throat and croaked, "I got hit." 

"By who?" She asked, turning his head to look at the wound, causing a fresh wave of pain to roll behind his eyes. He closed his eyes and groaned, "Don't know."

"Tom." He winced, eyes still closed. "Tom. Open your eyes." He gingerly blinked up at her, frowning.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" 

He blinked, frown deepening before eventually replying. "... Four." 

"OK you're going to the hospital. Can you stand?" 

It took him a second to will his arms to obey and slowly pushed himself back to sitting. Nausea reared its head, his muscles twitched and he felt his hand slip on the dewy grass but was lucky saved my Mared lunging forward and catching him, arms under his armpits, before he could go and do himself another head injury. 

"Oh, God. Okay." Mared groaned, "Okay count of three, one, two." 

She pulled him up with arms strong from wrangling a child and criminals, helping him to standing while his still confused muscles slipped, trying to find footing on the uneven ground. He straightened and started to pull away, "Oh no you don't." Mared grunted, grabbing his arm and wrapping it around her shoulder. 

At first he felt somewhat like a petulant child but as they reached the small mound separating his caravan from the road he was grateful. Somewhere in his pain and injury fogged mind it occurred to him to feel embarrassed. 

They made it to her car with minimal fuss, only almost rebraining himself on a rock once and she deposited him in the passenger seat. He let out a puff of air and went to rest his head on the headrest.

"Don't." Mared snapped, barely looking over at him as she clipped her belt. 

Tom looked over at her, puzzled.

She looked up at him and signed then unzipped her jacket and stuffed it between his head and the headrest. "You have blood all down your head and neck I don't want my car looking like a crime scene thank you." 

He looked at her, still puzzled, then let out a sharp burst of laughter. 

This only made her frown deeper. "It must be bad if you're smiling." 

He turned away and blew out another laugh, resting his head on Mareds jacket he closed his eyes and let the engine pull him back into darkness. 

~*~ 

"Tom." 

Tom groaned, pain snaking its way through his synapses. He tried to coax himself back into sleep.

"Tom.

Groaning again he opened his eyes and glared at Mared. 

"Don't give me that. We're here." 

He blinked. And again, then fumbled with his seat belt and pushed out of the car, Mareds coat clutched in his hand. The pain was worse now, a steady throb behind his eyes, but his legs were steadier and he waited, only swaying slightly for her to make her way around the car. He held out her jumper for her, it was cold. 

She made a face and threw the jacket on the back seat. "You're buying me a new one." 

"It'll come out." 

"That's not the point. Come on." 

The bright, clinical white of the A&E unit only served to worsen his headache, turning it from a dull, steady throb to a constant spiking pain. Mared noticed him wincing every time he had to open his eyes and turned off the lights as soon as the nurse had finished stitching and cleaning the wound.

He sighed in relief. "Thanks." 

The nurse returned with a painkillers that Tom swallowed gratefully. 

"Head wounds always look worse than they are." She said, "We won't have to keep you overnight though you should have someone to keep an eye on you for the next 48 hours." 

"You can stay with me." Mared said.

"But Eli-"

"She won't mind." 

Tom looked at her for a moment then nodded. The nurse pulled a slip of paper, painkiller prescription, from her scrubs and handed it to him. "The pharmacys downstairs. Take two as needed." She turned to Mared, "The concussions not bad considering though it'll be best if you wake him once or twice tonight just to make sure the symptoms don't get worse. Vision, mobility problems. If he does bring him straight back here. Otherwise plenty of rest and don't move around too much." 

Mared nodded and thanked the nurse as she left. "Right. Let's get you home." He stood and dutifully pulled his jacket, still crusted with blood, over his shoulders. The painkillers were already kicking in, allowing much needed relief from the incessant pounding at the back of his skull.

After a quick stop at the pharmacy, Tom found himself being roused in front of Mareds house, after dozing through the pain free relief that the painkillers had provided. "Come on." 

He stumbled vaguely after her through the front door. It was a nice house, it was obviously lived in, not like his caravan, the place had warmth, personality. "... Elin?" 

"At school," Mared replied, coming back around the corner and handing him a shirt and handing him a shirt and pyjama pants, "My dad's, I'm afraid. The spare bedrooms upstairs." 

He trailed upstairs and waited at the doorframe as Mared pulled extra pillow cases over the pillows in case his stitches burst. He caught her arm just as she was leaving to let him change. "Thank you. Mared." 

She paused, nodded, gave him a half smile and exited down the stairs. 

He closed the door gently and was barely into the borrowed clothes before he was face down on the bed, not even under the covers, and out like a light. 

~*~ 

Tom Matthias awoke for the second time time that day, face down and head killing him. The silver lining though was at least it wasn't damp earth this time. 

It took a couple seconds to remind himself where he was, then to remember the bottle of painkillers he'd only just pulled out his pocket and deposited on the bedside table before passing out. Without moving his head he slapped a hand down and groped until his fingers brushed the bottle the rolled over to swallow two pills dry. 

Staring at the cream ceiling he vaguely registered voices downstairs. His watch read 6:47, Elin must be home. Forcing himself to stand, he padded out of the spare bedroom and followed the voices down stairs to find Mared and Elin at dinner table, empty plates between them. 

"Oh! Hello. I was about to come and wake you." Mared said, catching sight of him, then gestured to her daughter. "This is Elin. Elin this is my boss, DCI Tom Matthias." 

"Hey," Elin said, picking up her plate and depositing it in the sink. "I've got work to do."

"Anything I can help with?" Mared asked. 

"No it's fine. Easy stuff, I've just been putting it off." 

Tom turned to watch her leave up the stairs, he wondered what Meg and his daughter were doing in Canada. How she was doing in school, he so desperately wanted to be there for her, to help her with her homework, show her how to do algebra. He wanted that feeling again so badly it tugged on him, pulling him towards Canada, the only thing holding him back, of course, was the knowledge that the pain would be unbearable if he ever went. 

"Tom?" 

"Hm?" he turned, slowly, trying not to jostle his head. 

"You alright?" 

"Hm? Yes... yes."

"Do you want anything to eat?" He opened his mouth to refuse but Mared was already reaching for a clean plate. 

She shook her head, "I can't believe you really function on twenty minute naps in the break room and shit coffee. How are you alive?" 

He didn't bother to deign that with a response, the answer was probably more depressing than socially acceptable anyway. Instead he sat down limply and took the offered plate. "Thank you." 

There was silence. Broken only buy quiet scrapings of silverware on china. It was. Nice. 

"I called Sîan, asked her to get the medical files an start on the case." Mared said eventually. 

"What?"

"Someone burnt down your home, Tom. Then they took a chunk out of your head. It's what us police call a crime." she said, exasperatedly. 

He sighed. "She'll need to talk to me." 

"Not now. Eventually. For now, eat." 

He raised an eyebrow, amused, and lifted his fork.

 

~*~ 

It must have been some time in the middle of the night when Tom woke up to the sound of a door creaking open. It was pitch black, any light from the moon obscured by perpetual clouds. 

"Tom?" He heard a soft voice.

"...Yeah."

"Were you already awake?" 

"No." 

"How do you feel?" 

The light clicked on and Tom recoiled against the sudden brightness. He opened his eyes after a second to see Mared bundled in a fluffy dressing gown.

"Sorry. Just wanted to look at your pupils," she paused, coming closer. "Can you touch your finger to your nose?" 

He gave her a look but complied begrudgingly. She looked satisfied.

"Well. If you start feeling worse I'm just in the other room." 

He paused, she turned the light back off. "Thank you, Mared."

"No problem Tom." 

She left and he slid back under the covers and surprisingly, found himself sliding back into a comfortable, undisturbed sleep. 

~*~ 

The thing was Tom knew he had a tendency for self flagellation. It's not as if he was so dense to think that his constant risk taking was just another hallmark of a good detective. This self awareness meant he spent the early hours of the next morning trying to convince himself that no, kicking himself out of Mareds house did not count as self punishment. She was a single mother of a seventeen year old, she had enough problems without having her psychologically questionable boss hanging around. 

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" She asked, passing him a coat, his still matted with his own blood. 

"I'll be fine. I'll be back at the station tomorrow." 

Mared made a frustrated noise. "Sir, with respect you-..." she cut herself off and made another, quieter noise of frustration, "You just got assaulted, a head injury and you want to come straight back to work." 

He paused, looked at her. "I have to give a statement."

She humphed.

"Thank you, Mared. Really." 

"It's no issue, Tom. Just look after yourself." she sighed. 

Later, after he had bought clothes to replace those destroyed in the fire. And after he had check into a cheap but respectable hotel, he found himself lying on top of the sheets, his head pounding dimly and his ghosts suddenly returned in full force. 

He didn't sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr [@perxlta](perxlta.tumblr.com) :^)
> 
> i hope i did mared (loml) justice and if anyone knows what toms not dead kid is called please tell me, also the title is a google translated line from a poem because i couldn't think of anything else 
> 
> disclaimer: this was written at 12am on the notes app and barely read over


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